Pièce de Resistance
by superzedu
Summary: Dark-lashed eyes burnt into hers, sending dancing shivers down her spine. Hermione Granger had been nervous before, but there was no way she'd be tonight. One-shot; Chermione;Cho/Hermione


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**Pièce de Resistance  
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Hermione Granger had been nervous before, but there was no way she'd be tonight.

No. Way. She'd even promised to herself. Still, here she was on legs made of jelly. Her stomach was about up and out of her throat and her heart was frantically trying to free itself from its bodily holds. A deep, trembling breath shook her form. Eyebrows hunched over her dark-lashed eyes. No way. There wasn't even a reason to be this anxious. It was just a ball. It sure as hell would be nothing compared to the Yule Ball, so why again was she boiling over with nerves? This was ridiculous.

She huffed as she strode into the Gryffindor bathroom, not willing to correct herself that this was indeed no Yule Ball, but no less important. For heaven's sake, this was the quadrennial Masked Ball of Hogwarts. This was about social cohesion and students bonding. Moreover, it was anonymous, which made things a hundred times more interesting.

This was so much more than a silly Yule Ball. Hermione's stomach knotted together as she applied the last layer of mascara on her already black lashes, trying her best to steady her hand. She'd never been the one to care for make-up, but this was something special. Then again, half of her face would probably be shrouded, propped behind a mask, so she wondered if it even was of any use. Her hands continued to buzz around, seemingly on their own accord, and pretty up her face none the less. It was just the feeling that the Ball was extraordinary, so naturally it was accompanied by extraordinary looks. One has to be either mad or utterly lazy to not dress properly for these kind of special occasions.

Talking about properly dressed; that was something Hermione wasn't unsure of. She had opted for a simple yet daring black dress that hugged her hips and swayed out in a mass of ruffles and lace, coming to an end just above her knees. The cleavage was subtle but there and high, black heels graced her feet, legs slipped up in smooth tights.

Her hair - having spent hours on perfecting it - was up in a loose but classy bun, one thick strand of brown curly locks rippling down the right side of her face. She found it ridiculous, spending so much time and effort on something so trivial, but she couldn't help herself. It was like it _needed _to be done. The excitement was hanging in the air like some poison, dripping down on her, leaving Hermione open to all of its influences. Hence the nerves.

Really, it was infectious how the whole school seemed to shake on its ground with eagerness. The whole day had revolved around the ball and nothing else, chatter in the halls about hairdo's and hook-ups, dates and dances. A twang of anxiety in her stomach made Hermione bite her lower lip. It was truly _ridiculous_. Ridiculous, but oh so amazing.

She'd be lying if she said she wasn't looking forward to it.

Mustering up the mental power to stop her hands from shaking, she squeezed her eyes shut for a bit and consciously breathed in and out. That is, for as far as she was able in the rather tight dress. The flock of fully-grown birds in her stomach seemed to have calmed down as she opened her eyes. For now. She then decided on a full, red lipstick as final facial decoration. Popping it on, she grinned helplessly at the reflection in the mirror, like a schoolgirl seeing her crush up close for the first time.

It was now time for the _pièce de resistance_. Her smile lit up even more as she pointed her wand at her face, closed her eyes and whispered. "Indumentum oris."

Slowly but surely, as mask was beginning to form on her face. Tiny red particles appeared and sowed themselves together over her nose, forehead and eyebrows. Curves stretched across the length of her brow and cheekbones, and the slight dip of her nose was accentuated by the forming disguise. The particles made their way up above her left eye, making two, three waves upward and back again, the decoration sticking out above her face. Lastly a black edge appeared around the edges.

Hermione opened her eyes and exploded into a laugh. She could barely even recognize herself. Twisting and turning her face, looking at it from different angles, touching it with quivering, excited fingers; the mask made it all look so foreign and unlike her, the only thing she was able to place as being herself her eyes. They radiated and twinkled like they never had before, yet they were so normal. Yes. This was so much more than a silly Yule Ball.

With wobbly legs she flew down the stairs of the girls dorm, into the Gryffindor common room, eyes darting over the room to look for Harry and Ron. It was that she knew what they were going to wear, because else she couldn't tell. Of course, she could see in the slope of Ron's back and the small, squat figure of Harry, but their masks made it way more difficult.

"Bloody hell, Hermione. Is that you?" the redhead asked, a full, wide smile on his lips.

She nodded, a sense of breathlessness washing over her as she saw all the students in ball gowns, tuxedo's and Venetian styled masks.

Harry just smiled as he took her hand and made a small bow, causing Hermione to burst out in giggles. "Are you so excited too? I can barely wait!" the bespectacled boy grinned and gave her a twirl, the edges of her dress swaying around gracefully. "I sure am." he said, letting her go. Ron nodded in agreement.

"By the way, you look great, Harry." she smiled as she let her eyes roam over the boy's slick suit, "And Ron, you look dashing too."

"Well, I can't say you don't look fine yourself, Hermione." the latter stumbled, hand flying up to scratch the back of his head as she casually looked away, avoiding eye contact. Hermione could only smile at him at this point, all her nerves leading to an abundance of happiness and excitement, leaving her body through laughter, seeping away like through a wound. It did made her feel less anxious; her shaking hands had began to act normal and her legs felt reasonably stable again.

"Shall we go then?" Ron opted, hooking his arm and offering it to Hermione, who laced her arm through his and let herself be escorted to the Great Hall. Her eyes gazed in wonder across the school as they walked down the fourteen flights of stairs. Dumbledore sure outdid himself. The whole school had been transformed into a colourful party scene: floating lanterns in red and yellow guided the way, dipping Hogwarts in honey and crimson shadows, and all of the paintings were wearing masks as well.

It was quite the sight to behold. Laughter and loud, animated chatter resonated through the enormous stairwell, giving off a very cozy and warm atmosphere.

The Great Hall was even more impressive. The ceiling - normally being a representation of the weather or the current mood of Dumbledore - was glowing with a setting sun, casting soft orange light on all the students. More lanterns were floating through the room, some big and some small. A live band was playing classical music with a sort of jazzy, yet folklore touch to it.

Hermione playfully punched Ron on the arm with her free hand, barely being able to hide her enthusiasm behind her smile. "Isn't it great?"

Really, it wasn't any different from any given ball but for the fact that it was a masked one. But like the brunette had stated before, that fact alone made it a thousand times better. One could almost taste the anonymity, along with the freedom that it brought. The students were acting way more loose, way more confident now that others couldn't quite make out who you were. Even though Hermione was vigorously in favor for being true to yourself and being honest, being the opposite was a welcome change.

Not that she disliked being honest, but it was quite something to be but a person, not prejudiced by looks or reputation. Every student attending the ball was equal because none of them could be judged. The masks provided safety yet a sense of freedom, it was like they all started off with a clean slate.

"Sure it is." Ron answered at last, turning to face her with questioning eyes, "Say, would you err, have a dance with me, Hermione? If you'd like, of course. I mean, it's fine if you don't want to, I can understand, I'm not pushing you... am I?" his cheeks were flushing red and Hermione couldn't help but smile. "Of course, Ron."

He smiled from ear to ear as he took her hand and guided her along to the dance floor.

"Seems like you dance better than on the Yule Ball." Hermione said, noticing subtle changes as he wrapped his hand gently around her waist, leading the dance by softly, almost unnoticeably pushing her into the right directions. Her hand rested warm on his shoulder, feeling his lean muscles move against her fingertips as they swerved around. Feet circling around each other in a graceful cadence, bodies at a few inches away. "Have you been taking extra classes from McGonagall?"

Ron's eyes narrowed at the painful reminder. "Bloody hell, I'd be damned if I did. But I mean, yeah, I might've been practicing. A bit. Did you notice?"

"Yeah, you're a natural." Hermione said, enjoying the ever widening smile on the boy's face. Even though they had been friends for ages now, there had always been something extremely adorable about Ron. Whether it was his phobia for spiders, his embarrassment or the playful fights he and his brothers often got in; it always had this edge of innocence. She'd always thought that, but never quite dared to say it aloud. Because he was just a friend, right?

His gleaming eyes remained ever glued to her as they slowly pranced around and in between other students, his blush about as red as his hair. Hermione tried to hide a smile but there was too much excitement roaring inside her to stay quiet or hold onto a seriousness.

"Ron, can I ask you something?" the brunette said, the question visibly hitting the redhead. He looked like he was slapped in the face and he swallowed hard, nodding.

"It sounds a little weird, but, if someone -say, a stranger, since you can't see who it is here, were to kiss you tonight... what would you do?" Hermione bit her lips to prevent a chuckle from escaping her throat. Ron's face, for as far as she could see, was a mixture between a grimace and not-understanding, eyes questioning but forehead creased with a few lines. It looked like he wasn't exactly sure whether to burst out laughing or be serious.

"Well, that sure is a bit bolder than I expected." he said, lips curling upwards in a crooked smile, eyes adverting. "And I think I wouldn't really know. I mean, maybe, if she was really interested and all that stuff, yeah, I might give it a go." he casually shrugged, "You know. What would I have got to lose? It's all up to the right moment, though."

Hermione nodded. She understood his reasoning very well, since she never had kissed anyone she didn't see further possibilities with. But she wasn't sure whether the same rules applied to this particular evening as well, since this was completely anonymous; no one would get hurt because one couldn't find out who you were. Pleasure - as wrong as it sounded in this context - would only be bound to this evening, not to a person in particular.

She shrugged the thought away. She wasn't here to muse about philosophical matters; she was here to have a great night and enjoy herself. Letting Ron take the lead in the dance once more, happiness spread around in her body like poison, like adrenaline. Smiles exploded on her face as she switched from dance partner, losing Ron in the crowd and finding him back later, laughing and grinning and everything was just ridiculously great.

After what seemed like forever, Hermione plopped down on a bench, some drink or cocktail in her hand, breathless from the dancing and excitement. She had no clue what the time was or who she'd danced with, and frankly, she couldn't quite muster up the care for it. She was feeling alive and amused and that was all that mattered for tonight.

"Excuse me, but, may I have this dance?"

Turning to the source of the feminine voice, she saw a slender, outstretched hand reaching for hers. Brown eyes slowly traced the subtle curves of the hand, inspecting the soft, tanned tone of her forearm. The young witch was wearing a red dress, elegantly draped around her hips, slick, braided raven hair peeping out from the side, cascading over the shoulder. Hermione lastly looked at the girl's face. Not that she was getting any sort of information from that; half of the girl's features lay hidden by a black mask, fiery yet dark eyes like glowing embers in the shade.

She swallowed hard. The girl did have one of the most widest, prettiest, yet seductive smiles Hermione had ever cared to experience. "Well, I was just having a bit of a break from dancing. It's not the best thing to do in these heels, I'm afraid. You can join me, though." she patted the free spot next to her and the girl complied, adding a question. "Can I ask you something?"

Lips curling up into a crooked grin, eyes behind the mask focusing on Hermione's. "That depends."

"Do you know me? I mean, not that it's easy to see, but, you sound and look a little familiar. I was just wondering if you recognized me somehow."

"Now, that wouldn't be fun to tell, would it? It's not a masked ball for nothing." the stranger winked, still grinning, "I don't know. Maybe I do, maybe I don't. I just saw you sitting here, and I thought, why the heck not? You look gorgeous, I just thought it'd be nice to have a dance and maybe a little chat with you." Hermione's eyebrows raised until they were almost perched way above her mask before plunging down into a frown again. Something in her stomach knotted together. Gorgeous? Really?

"Are- are you hitting on me?" Hermione asked cautiously, her voice hinted with a nervous chuckle. Brown eyes met darker ones and she looked away, strangely feeling this urge to gaze back again just to see the sizzling embers in her eyes glow and grow. Was she being hit on? She'd never really been hit on before so she couldn't quite tell. Yet the girl's body language and the mysterious spark in her eyes made the brunette be weary of the fact that her intentions were more than she voiced. A blush crept onto her cheeks.

The black-haired girl merely smirked. "Come on. All I want is one dance."

"B-but you're a girl." voice faltering, words slipping from her lips, being guiltily aware of the fact that she was being a bit hypocritical. After all, she'd danced with at least two girls in the last hour. But that sort of came natural, it was less casual when one's being asked specifically. Hermione bit her lip, trying not to gaze into the convincing eyes of the stranger.

"Does that really matter? Tonight I am not a girl, I'm merely a person. I promise I'll be good." her lips pouted, silently ushering.

The girl offered her hand again and Hermione took it with rolling eyes, trying to hide her guilty smile. "Fine. Just _one_dance, though."

"I promise." her voice was excited as she twirled the brunette around once, smirk adorning her lips as she watched the dress sway, see Hermione's body flow and move so gracefully. They both burst out into giggles like little girls as the raven-haired girl led Hermione to the dance floor by the hand. The latter carefully put her hand on her shoulder, feeling the extraordinarily warm hand of the stranger on her waist, scorching her through the fabric of her dress. Painfully aware of her feelings, she scoffed at how much she didn't mind this at all.

Slowly they started to revolve around each other. The stranger was leading, a smirk on her face as her grip ever so gently tightened around Hermione's waist, guiding her across and over the dance floor with ease. Their steps were a relentless rhythm, synchronized like machines. "At least you're a good dancer." the brunette murmured.

"I could say the same about you." the girl gave Hermione another twiddle before pulling her back into her hold, much closer this time. The brunette tried to hide her smile but her lips quirked upwards anyway in a half-smile. Dark and hidden eyes twinkled back at her knowingly yet familiarly. Hands moved down half an inch, now resting Hermione's hips.

"You really seem so familiar, yet I can't give you a place," Hermione started, wondering again, "Can I at least know what House you're from?"

A soft chuckle hummed in the girl's throat, a smile flashing briefly across her face, eyes stern yet playful. "You sure don't like surprises. Why are you so intent on finding out who I am? Imagine, what if I were a Slytherin and you said you belonged to Gryffindor? We wouldn't even look at each other, let alone dance and talk. Takes away all the fun."

"Okay, okay, I understand. I wouldn't want to be a party-pooper now, would I?"

Smile from ear to ear. "See? You're starting to get the point, I'm liking you even more now."

Hermione could only grin along as the raven-haired girl gripped her hips and pulled her even closer. The brunette enveloped her arms around the other girl's neck and leaned in against her chest, hearing the low but fast drum of her heartbeat. Hermione had no idea what she was doing or if it was the right thing to do, but excitement was boiling in her veins, pulsing out to every single body part. Deep down she knew she shouldn't be enjoying it yet her rationality didn't win the arguement for once.

It was as if the room slowly started to heat up as they danced and danced. God only knows for how long they had been on the dance floor, either being silent or indulged in mocking, playful conversations, cheeks starting to hurt because of all the grinning and smirking.

When they were finally done, blisters on their sore feet and tights beginning to show little gaps and ladders, they got back to the bench they met. The girl then took Hermione's right hand, brought it to her mouth and pressed a light kiss against it, lips staying there longer than needed, eyes twinkling mysteriously as she did. Goose bumps erupted on Hermione's skin and she tried to find a reason to be somehow scared off by the move but she couldn't quite think of one.

The spot on her hand where the girl's lips had been was tingling dangerously. Her heart was suddenly in her throat and the urge to leave was strong. "Sorry, I-I've gotta go."

Hermione heard the girl call something after her but she didn't listen, guiltily aware of her pulse shooting sky-high. The brunette promptly strode out of the Great Hall, the cool outside air sweeping in her face, playing with her dress. Heels coming down on the ground hard, loud, clacking echoes reverberating in the hallway.

Rounding the corner and slamming back-first into the wall harder than she intended, Hermione could finally relax. Well, for as far as that was possible. Her heart felt like it was about to explode and just writhe there on the ground and her mind was dipped in a haze. With a deep, relieving sigh she closed her eyes, feeling the cold of the stone bricks radiate through her dress and it soothed her sudden worries. Who even was that girl? She acted so familiar yet she couldn't quite figure out who she was.

She opened her eyes and started when said girl was right in front of her, nearly bumping her head against the wall. "Holy sh-! What the hell are you _doing_?"

"Hey, come on, why'd you run from me?" her voice had dropped down a frequency or two, now sounding raw and seductive. "I didn't do anything wrong, did I?"

"Not yet." Hermione hissed back, more out of fear than anger. Her eyes swerved to avoid the dark ones of the stranger but she found herself involuntarily looking back at them as if drawn by gravity, gazing at the mysterious sparks swirling inside them. Palms spread out against the stone behind her, rough texture scraping against her warm skin, trying to calm it down somehow.

The black-haired girl's hands found the brunette's hips and she pulled herself against them, fingers squeezing lightly. Hermione gasped, depraved of words. She could feel the blood rushing to her head, pulse audible as a dull, irregular thumping against her skull. Her vision was bleary but it was like all her other senses had gained in sensitivity, feeling and almost tasting everything twice as much, and better than before. The witch's perfume misted her thoughts like some intoxication.

Hermione couldn't do anything. Her bodily functions had just stopped, numbing out her whole brain as well. The only thing that was important was the distance between their faces the stranger was closing. Foreheads rested against each other, dark, fiery eyes and a wide smirk looking down on her. Breathing was still a bit of an issue.

Warm, tingling breath murmured against her cheek as lips softly brushed along the skin. "Of course not. After all, I promised I'd be good, right?"

Mouths collided and it was like something heavy had whipped all the air out of Hermione's lungs. They damn near were on fire by the time she choked for some oxygen into the kiss, but only for the stranger to explore her mouth with a soft, wet tongue. The girl's hands snaked up the brunette's body, fingertips leaving blazing trails from her hips to her neck to the sides of her face. White spots danced in her vision so she closed her eyes, expecting a welcome dark but it was quite the same but with colours.

Hermione's heart was about to break free from her ribcage as the thought of this being so very wrong was slowly drowned out by her senses. All that she tasted and felt and heard was good, better, wonderful even. Her body and brain were on the verge of collapsing as the stranger bit down on her lower lip.

It was certainly very _different _from the kiss Victor had given her during the Yule Ball. Then again, Victor hadn't been a girl. That kiss paled in comparison to these full and soft yet daring lips moving against her own. Hermione's knees nearly buckled by the time the girl broke the kiss, still trying to catch her breath. Shivers were dancing on her spine, lips on fire. Her eyes opened slowly to reveal the black-haired girl's toothy, crooked smile and in the heat of the moment Hermione grabbed her and yanked her back in for another lip-lock.

She had been completely right when she had assumed this was going to be no ordinary ball.  
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A/n: yay, Harry Potter!** **A friend of mine suggested the masked ball idea and I thought it was pretty nice, especially in Hogwarts setting. It fits quite well.  
So as you might've spotted, this is a little bit of ye ol' Cho/Hermione goodness! They're a wonderful couple so I thought, why the heck not? Even though I put in a some implied Ron/Hermione in there, in the beginning, it's mainly femmeslash. Hehe. What else, eh?**

**About the spell in the beginning: indumentum oris. I thought it would be cool to have a spell to mask one's face, and that's exactly what it means; mask in Latin. I couldn't think of anything good first but my sister offered this excellent choice, and I quite like it. Just in case you were wondering about it (:**

**Anyways, I hope you liked it! Leave me a review!**  
**Oh, also, feel free to add me on Pottermore, my username is QueenPatronus18325  
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_**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in any way  
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